34
Denise - Milkshakes and Bathroom Meetings
“So Alex doesn’t actually need you to pick anything up?” I ask.
“Nah. I just made that up so we could get out of there. Gladys is bad enough when I’m fully dressed. Sitting there with no shirt on was just asking for trouble. Once she gets into the whiskey, she gets a little handsy.” He laughs. “She’s been curious about the size of my junk ever since I went to a pool party at the complex and she saw me in my board shorts. I think she thinks there is a lot more going on down there than there is.”
I bark out a laugh. “You’re joking, right? You have to know you are more than adequate in that department? I know I sure didn’t have any complaints.” I clap my hand to my mouth seconds too late, leaving that statement just hanging there in the air between us. “I mean… shit. This is awkward.”
“We’re going to have to talk about it eventually, babe,” Ryder says, glancing away from the road ahead for a moment. “But for now I can pretend that I didn’t just hear you say how incredibly satisfied you are with my monster dong.” He breaks into laughter before lowering his voice, taking on a more serious tone. “At least until the Andrew situation is figured out and you realize that I’m in this for the long haul, anyway. And then I’m going to use, what you consider to be, my more than adequately sized cock to satisfy you every chance I get.”
Holy fuck, did it just get hot in here? I sneak my hand to the window controls and roll down the window a bit, pulling the front of the dress away from my body to let some air in there. Ryder smirks and looks at me out of the corner of his eye. Dick. He did that on purpose. And if I weren’t starving again, I might make him do something about it. Gladys was right, these pregnancy hormones are no joke.
“Can we go to Maggie’s for a milkshake?” I ask. “I’m hungry again but the only thing I really feel like having is one of those giant milkshakes.”
“Anything you want, babe.” Ryder turns the car down a street that will take us past his place. “I just want to stop and grab different shoes. These are still covered in Jell-O and it’s starting to feel sticky.”
Ryder pulls up at his place and runs in to change his shoes. I don’t even get out of the car because I don’t trust myself not to jump him the minute I get him alone in a private place. I need to work on keeping my hormones in check. Maybe a new vibrator will help keep my mind off of Ryder’s exceptional bedroom abilities? I pull out my phone and start browsing my favourite adult toy site, and I’m so invested in my research that I don’t notice when Ryder gets back into the car.
“Doing some shopping? You know, I’d be happy to help you test those out. I’m not intimidated by sex toys. I know sometimes things work better if I have a tag team partner helping me out. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
I close the page and turn my phone off before Ryder can say anything else. I can feel my cheeks heating in embarrassment. And the worst thing is that now I won’t even be able to buy one of the vibrators I was thinking of because I won’t be able to use it without imagining Ryder helping me with it. So much for getting my mind off of him.
“Never mind,” I say. “Let’s just go to the diner. I just want to have my milkshake. I don’t want to talk about this.”
“OK,” Ryder says, driving away from the curb. “But the offer stands. With or without toys for assistance. I’m your man. Everything I have,” he says as he gestures to his whole body, “is yours to do with as you wish.”
I turn toward the window and bury my face in my hand, determined not to engage in this conversation any further. Even with his stupid joking tone, I just want to make him pull over somewhere and fuck me against the side of the car. Why does he have to be so damn sexy? And why does he have to seem so damn sincere when he says he still wants me even though I’m pregnant? His insistence is making it so much harder for me to do the right thing.
When we pull up to the diner, the parking lot is nearly empty. Ryder parks in a spot close to the entrance and he comes around to open my door. In the short time I’ve been driving around with him, I’ve gotten used to his whole opening doors for me thing. I kind of like it. It makes me feel taken care of. Usually I’m the one taking care of everyone else, so this is nice. I just never expected Ryder would be the one who could make me feel this way. Anyone who’s ever heard me complain about having to clean up after his nonsense would be shocked to see his behaviour toward me now. He’s made a career out of being irresponsible, after all.
Has he really, though? He bought his old babysitter a store and makes sure she’s taken care of. And it sounds like he’s the one who bought that cute little place for his Gran in the retirement community. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s taking care of his dad and his brother too, somehow. Maybe it really was an act that he was putting on? Like the character of Ryder Sullivan from Sleeping Dogs is a different person than the man Ryder Sullivan? Could that be?
We sit in the same booth we had the last time we were here and we even get the same server. She comes over with menus and gets our drink orders. Vanilla milkshake for me this time, and Ryder gets a coffee.
“So what are you thinking of for the baby’s room?” Ryder asks. “Are you going to find out the sex of the baby and do the room up for a girl or a boy? Or were you thinking something better?”
The server brings our drinks just then and I notice she does the same napkin routine as last time, with her phone number and everything. Ryder’s reaction this time is much different. He picks up the napkin and hands it to her.
“I’m here with this beautiful woman and I would appreciate it if you didn’t pass me your phone number again. It’s very presumptuous of you to assume that I am interested in calling you when I am clearly here with someone else. You have no way of knowing the nature of our relationship but regardless of what it is, it’s not very polite of you to attempt to secretly pass me your phone number while I am clearly with someone. I’m sure you’re very nice, and I’m going to assume you meant no offense, but I think we would all be more comfortable if you sent us a different server for the remainder of our visit.”
The server stammers something that sounds like it could be an apology while shoving the crumpled up napkin into the pocket of her apron. She goes behind the counter and whispers to another server, who nods her head in agreement. I guess she’ll be taking over our table.
“That wasn’t really necessary,” I tell Ryder. “We’re not together. It’s OK if you take her number.”
“No, it’s not OK. She doesn’t know we’re not together. Plus, I want us to be together. I’m not looking for anyone else, for any reason. I’m serious when I say I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to prove to you I am the man you need in your life, to help you with everything. I know you don’t actually need me, Denise. I don’t think you need rescuing. But I care for you, and I want to be here for you. I’m going to do everything I can to show you I can be that man for you. You take care of everyone and everything else. I want to be the person who takes care of you.” He reaches across the table, grabs my hand, and brings it up to his lips. After kissing my knuckles, he places my hand back onto the table.
“I need to run to the bathroom,” I blurt, before sliding out of the booth and scurrying to the back hallway, where the restrooms are located. Once inside, I wet some paper towels and use them to cool my face.
Ryder is saying all the right things. What I wouldn’t give to have someone taking care of me for a change. I’ve never been able to rely on anyone, even when I wanted to. People just aren’t wired that way, in my experience. They say they’ll take care of you, but it doesn’t work out that way. Even my parents did the bare minimum. Oh sure, they provided the home, food, clothes, and education, but they were seriously lacking in the nurturing and actual caring departments. I can’t even remember the last time I hugged my parents.
I finish cooling my face and dab it dry with a fresh paper towel. Just as I’m about to leave the restroom and head back to the table, our original server comes in.
“Oh,” she says in surprise. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”
“That’s OK,” I say. “I was just on my way out.”
I try to walk around her, and she stops me with a gentle touch on the arm. “I’m really sorry about what happened before,” she says. “What your boyfriend said was actually a real wake up call for me. I’ve been pulling the same crap with any cute customer that comes in here, regardless of who they’re with. He was the first one to ever call me out on it, though. You wouldn’t believe the number of men who just pocket the number and call me later.” She laughs a humourless laugh. “I don’t even know why I do it. It makes me feel good for a few minutes when we hook up, and then I feel like absolute garbage for days afterward. But I’ll let you go now. I’m really, very sorry. Please tell your boyfriend thank you, from me. I think I really needed to hear that.”
